Cuffs Aren't So Bad
by bea.tricks
Summary: A series of kinky B&B oneshots. Chapter 3 is called "Don't Say a Word." It's so much fun to do things when and where you shouldn't, isn't it?
1. Cuffs, Part 1

_okay, this is a total cop-out, mindlessly indulgent, short little smutty oneshot for my 'feels like home' readers who are apparently hard up and clamoring for the smut, and for me, cause i'm also clamoring for it, apparently. ;)_

_so here we go. no plot line, no massages, no fluff. just the good stuff, baby._

_also very little concern for staying in character. though i do firmly believe that brennan would be a tiger in the sack._

_here's the disclaimer. they aren't mine. let's not harp on it, it's painful enough as it is._

* * *

_Poof_ went the pillows under the weight of his swiftly falling body.

_Slap... slap_ went the handcuffs over his head.

"Now you are my prisoner, Agent Booth," Brennan cackled gleefully as she looked down at her bare-chested partner stretched out on the bed for her perusal.

"Bones! Come on," he spoke like he thought she was joking, and would suddenly blush and release him. When she straddled his waist and arched her back, letting down her hair and rubbing her fingers through her long and surprisingly lush locks, his eyes widened. "You're... you're not serious?"

She just cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms, catching the hem of her shirt. In one swift movement she'd pulled it over her head, and Booth took in the view. Her lithe form sat straight on top of him with her plentiful breasts rounded above the top of the black cotton bra, arms raised as her hands caressed her scalp.

Booth's breath caught in his throat.

She suddenly and briefly ground against his hip. His windpipe clamped completely and he stared up at her in amazement.

When she began gyrating above him, his open mouth closed into a grin and his eyes slid shut. Groan.

She now arched forwards and began kissing his stomach, moving slowly upward while never ceasing the movement of her hips.

"Oh, Bones... you are going to be the death of me."

"There will be no dying tonight," she stated reproachfully. "Well, maybe just a little death." The smirk into his chest went unnoticed. "Or two..." She smiled broadly to herself. _Or ten._

She kissed his nipples. _Groan. _His collarbone. _Louder groan. _The hollow of his neck just below his jawline.

He had loosed a continuous and mottled moan by then.

When she eventually released his skin from her lips, he snatched them with his own. For just a moment, she found herself lost in his tuneful kiss. As least she thought it was just a moment. It was possible that it had been several languid days.

When she pulled away, swiftly or finally (she didn't like making calls like that when she didn't have all the evidence on hand, and she _certainly_ hadn't been fully cognizant during that kiss), she nipped lightly at his lower lip and sat up again.

She let her fingers play across his chest, every inch lower they crept, the wetter she became. And suddenly, her body cried that with his hands chained up, it was getting zero attention.

Release his hands? No. He was her prisoner, interior cackle. She'd just have to take care of it herself.

Booth stared in awe as his partner's hands danced down his torso, teasing and lightly scratching him all the way. When they met the spot where she straddled him, he wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he was certain he hadn't expected her hands to start sliding up her own body.

What on earth did I do to deserve something this hot?

Her fingers sketched her low-cut jeans above the bikini line, dodging her most responsive places with a shiver and ran up her front slowly. A year later, they cupped her breasts over the bra, gripping gently. Open-handed play eventually gave way to a reach for the clasp of her bra. Booth took a deep breath in anticipation.

They were perfect, he thought to himself. Her full breasts hung just slightly under the weight. Oh, how he wanted to touch them. He said so and tugged at the cuffs. The request was denied, so he simply praised her body with his eyes.

Her fingers pinched and rolled her nipples, occasionally venturing up to be moistened in her mouth. Tingles connected her breasts to her groin. They both tensed under her own scorching touch. She locked her eyes on his face and watched it play a thousand emotions in quick succession, none occurring so often as wonder and devotion. Those two looks added just a tingle of fright to the exhilaration she was experiencing.

Brennan's hands eventually stopped and moved south again.

When fingers found the button of his slacks, she looked a question at him.

"Oh, you'd damn well better," he smirked.

Tongue flicking out to wet her lips, she undid the button and let her hand brush him and herself both as she pulled the zipper.

It was startling, after how painfully slow all of her movements had been up to that point, how quickly he found himself stark naked, spread on the bed. She stood, studying his long lines, and the exceptionally solid one standing perpendicular. Her jeans were shortly on the floor, and she was once again straddling him.

She was really going to do this, Booth thought, mind still boggled. She shifted so that his girth pressed against the front of her pelvis and she pressed herself into it.

Now it was her turn to groan.

Over the next very long moment, she rubbed, ground herself, slipped the outside of her senselessly wet folds against his pulsing cock and when she finally pressed his velvety head to her clit, her head flew back. The surge was rising.

Her breaths came in gasps and she came grunting loudly. A fierce shudder ripped through her and then echoed off the walls and back through her.

Holy shit, she thought when thought returned.

Holy shit, his mind could come up with only those words. He had never had a woman take her pleasure from him like that and it was one of the most brilliant things he'd ever seen. He decided that he wanted nothing more than to touch her and taste her and make fifteen brainiac babies with her and watch her do that every night for the rest of his life.

She leaned forward and kissed him, gasping into his mouth and stroking his shaft along the outside of her wetness.

Booth absorbed every millisecond of contact he could draw from her mouth and pressed himself up against her lips down below.

"Ohhh, Temperance." Soft kiss. "God, I want to touch you," he breathed against her sweet mouth. "Come on, take off the cuffs," he appealed.

Out of breath, but matter-of-factly, "No."

Booth couldn't explain why her answer shot a charge through him.

Laying against the smooth power of his chest, she ran her fingertips along the side of his torso and up to grasp his shoulders. Pulling herself up toward the headboard, she shifted until the head of his cock pressed lightly against her opening. With a building sigh, she lowered herself onto him.

Booth, who had been barely breathing, now took in great gulps.

Brennan's great intellect failed her then. Thoughts and desires were replaced by the raw feel of his huge, throbbing appendage filling and stretching her to her limit. And then some. The bands of indulgence around her hips tightened uncontrollably and she cried them to the room.

Finally, when her head threatened to melt into his shoulder, she tried to reclaim some control by sitting up. It partly backfired on her, he was now pushed deeper inside of her and had begun to press up into her firmly. She twitched. Then she began to stroke herself up and down his shaft, thready moan fleeing her lips.

Booth was in shock. His partner, his Bones had handcuffed him to the bed and was now riding him with raving abandon. It was no small miracle that he'd lasted so long. Every woman he'd ever been with paled in comparison, but without his experience, there was no way he would have been able to maintain himself. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to.

But Booth was strong and he endured. More than once he held his eyes closed and recounted hockey stats. He was determined that this would last as long as she wanted, but she wasn't making it easy, clamping around him so much.

And looking like she did.

She rose above him like a monument, beautiful and upright. Her face was flushed, sweat beaded her brow and her lips were redder than he'd ever seen them. But her eyes were closed tightly. Her eyes, he thought. I need to see her eyes.

"Temperance," he called to her.

The lids of her blues fluttered open and she gazed hazily down on him where he lay, vulnerable and powerful and intoxicating. His study of her eyes was so intense it stung, and she could only bear it for a few moments before her body began to quiver and her eyes slammed shut again.

She'd never decided how to count her orgasms. When she arrived at a point where she came and came and started coming down just to rise up and come again, and then repeated the pattern several times, she wasn't sure whether each peak should count as one or whether they were all part of one ridiculously long orgasm. Of course, the firm logic of numbers was entirely abstract by then anyway, so she never paid that much attention.

Now she trembled, she quaked, her mind ran to everywhere and nowhere as her body moved outside her control. She came long and hard, crying over and over again, "Oh God, Booth!" Eventually, his name was the only word her mouth knew how to form, and she called it to the heavens.

When her mouth had no more words, she fell against his chest, spent. She continued to roll her hips and he pumped into her steadily.

Speech came again briefly. "You gonna come for me, Booth?"

That was all he needed.

When his upward thrusts increased, she whimpered into his neck and began to clench around him again.

"Temperance," he whispered into her ear. Her lips grazed his neck as she moaned weakly into his skin. She didn't think his firmly muscled body could become any harder than it was, but then it tightened impossibly and shook and he came hot within her. She trembled violently again and then at long last relaxed into him.

* * *

"Not to diminish how astoundingly erotic that was, but are you ever going to take these handcuffs off?"

She grunted into his chest. "Ugh, you want me to get up and find the key after all those orgasms you gave me?"

"Bones, my hands are falling asleep."

"So am I," she mumbled.

"Bones," his voice had a trace of whining.

"Oh alright." She rolled out of bed.

Booth, unable to do anything else, and suspecting he would be in the same predicament handcuffs or no, followed her naked form with his eyes and watched as she bent over to pick up his jeans.

He blinked. Breathe, Booth.

Finding the keys, she returned to him. She finally released his wrists and he had to remind himself to breathe once more when her breasts invaded his face. Arms wrapped swiftly around her body, pulling one breast to his mouth while he rubbed his wrists behind her back.

She chuckled. He pressed an extended kiss to each reddened nub and let her sink back down to sprawl across him and rest her head on his shoulder.

After a long silence where they just held each other, Booth spoke.

"Okay, maybe handcuffs aren't so bad."

* * *

_good stuff? are we all sated for at least the next fifteen minutes? ;)_

_r&r please! click the button and tell me if you liked it, if you want more, if i should just stop writing altogether... :) tell me what you think!_


	2. Cuffs, Part 2

_i know i said this was going to be a oneshot, but apparently i don't believe in single chapter oneshots! lol! and it always amuses me when people put a oneshot on alert._

_i'm going to leave this fic open, and if you ask real nice, i shall endeavor to get my kink on in various settings. if you have a particular thing you'd like for me to try out with our pair, let me know in a review or pm and i'll see if i can work it in._

_many thanks to the wonderful Tom's gg for her beta help and all-around spectacularness!_

* * *

The seconds ticked into minutes and into hours as they dozed together. Booth woke with a start and, after reassuring himself of his location, tried to go back to sleep. But it was no use, he was awake.

He looked down. Very awake.

Wake Bones? Of course. Perfect idea. W_ake up, Bones. Sex._

Then an idea popped into his mind. An idea that would either get him laid or killed. He decided to take his chances.

He massaged her arms upwards, one hand moving up each arm slowly, she moaned softly in her half-sleep and let her arms shift with his ministrations.

Then _slap, slap._

Brennan's eyes opened suddenly. She was quick, but she'd been very relaxed and the g-man's reflexes were fast.

"Booth! What the hell?" She tugged at the handcuffs now restraining her to the headboard.

"Turnabout's fair play, baby."

Brennan's eyes squinted, but she found herself intrigued.

"Don't worry, you'll get your sleep. I guarantee it after how many times you'll be coming."

"Pretty cocky."

"Yes, we established that long ago," he said and leaned down into her lips.

His mouth moved assertively, attuned to the contrapuntal movements of her face.

Brennan realized that, though handcuffs were not new to her sexual repertory, she'd never been on the receiving end. She was typically dominant in bed and she'd had relatively few partners who insisted on varying the roles.

The newness made her instantly hot.

"Mmm," she moaned into his kiss. "Touch me, Booth."

He smacked his lips away from hers. "Patience is a virtue."

"You gonna quote cliches at me all night? Patience is overrated."

"Well, last time I checked, you weren't in control of this encounter."

She exhaled forcibly and rattled the cuffs. "So what are you going to do to me?" Tauntingly.

He cocked an eyebrow but didn't answer. Instead, he exhaled at the corner of her mouth.

Her vocal cords emitted a little sound and were quiet.

He kept his lips an inch away from her skin and let his hot breath caress her as he followed her jawline to her ear. He held the distance.

She wanted him to bite her lobe, to run his tongue inside her ear. She turned her head and stretched it toward him in invitation. But still he held the distance.

"Tease," she admonished.

He blew into her ear. She gasped.

He eventually let his mouth trail down her neck, alternating cool air from pursed lips with hot, open-mouthed drifting. Brennan matched his lips, breath for breath. She matched him as she always had, in their partnership, in their friendship, in their relationship.

His treatment drew her skin into goosebumps and had every nerve ending twitching for him.

As he moved down her torso, he added a hand to the sweet torture, rambling above her skin, never touching. When she groaned and bowed her body toward him, he pulled back and puffed against her in rebuke.

"Touch me," she demanded.

"Shh." Quick. Definitive.

She found herself frustrated, wound up, lips sweltering. She rubbed her legs together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but Booth quickly placed himself between her legs, holding them apart with his strong knees.

She snarled. He smiled.

"You said I'd come. You promised."

"And you will."

If it were anyone else she wouldn't have suspended her doubts and frustration. But this was Booth. He was a man of his word. And she belived that if anyone could do what he promised, it was him. All the same, she squirrelled beneath him, impatient.

Brennan could see only his muscled shoulders and neck from her vantage point, where he'd finally settled between her limbs. His strong hands moved above the skin on the inside of her legs, just barely brushing the fine hairs covering her skin. Its purpose was to help the body retain heat, but at the moment, each hair was straining out toward the promise of his touch.

Why the hell had she put underwear on before falling asleep?

Damn habits.

Well he'd have to take care of it before proceeding. She figured that after mastering the United States Government's training programs both in the military and the FBI he would be able to manage a simple pair of cotton panties.

Apparently she was wrong.

He still didn't touch her, nor the fabric. He breathed hotly over it. Heavier so that she could feel it, but still only air. She wanted him next to her skin, to her folds, to the place she needed him so urgently. But he merely heated the fibers to what must have been beyond the combustion point. It was a miracle that they didn't burst into flames.

Finally he pulled himself upright. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now, certainly, he would remove her underwear and put them both out of their misery. But he just knelt there, holding her legs firmly apart with his own and letting his eyes cascade over her with his impressive erection standing at attention.

And then he brought his hand up not to touch her, but to take his length into his own hand and begin stroking.

The evil, evil man.

"You know, I could take care of that for you. It's really no trouble," she said with an air of sarcasm.

He smirked at her and continued handling himself.

"You wouldn't even need to release the handcuffs," she appealed, "just," she pressed her hips up toward him suggestively, "or, you know," she licked her lips and pulled the lower one between her teeth.

He looked tempted, but maintained his current course.

He _was_ tempted. Sorely. But he was enjoying her reaction far too much at the moment.

He reveled in the view. Temperance Brennan, the woman he'd loved, had lusted after for so long unresolved, was stretched out before him. Open, panting in desire for him. For him. She was practically begging.

The pleasure he was experiencing made him want to shut his eyes and let go, but he couldn't bear to remove his gaze from the woman lying spread around him. From her hair that was splayed across the pillow behind her bound arms and the single tendril that stuck to her moist skin, down past her full breasts, heaving and taut, nipples firm, the narrow waist that squirmed and her hips that cradled her wet sweetness. From her bright eyes all the way to the legs that grasped at his frantically. Every inch of her was heaven incarnate and he nearly came at the sight of her.

But he stopped before he hit the point of no return. No, darling, that's not how this will end tonight. I made a promise.

Brennan watched in growing arousal as his grasp tightened and released around his hard cock. She devoured him with her eyes, all the parts of his form that she normally wouldn't be able to see during sex. She saw his strong arms tighten, his face falter and watched him release his hand's grip before he took himself too far. He drew several long breaths to calm himself.

Before she knew it, he had proven that he was indeed capable of removing her underwear and fell once more between her legs, latching his mouth immediately to her core.

After the long torture, she still found herself caught off guard and she let out a loud whimper.

"You're wet."

"Yeah, that happens when you tease me for three years."

Brennan found that she was already nearly there when he began to devour her. His tongue flashed and swirled. Fingers dipped inside.

Her head careened back toward the headboard. She pulled helplessly at the cuffs. The frustrating, the overwhelmingly cocky man was going to make her come that quickly after teasing her so long? That was just unfair. She almost wanted to resist out of sheer spite.

Almost.

He sucked her clit hard into his mouth and she screamed.

When he released her, and she began to settle, he started rolling his tongue around the tender nub again and her hips bucked away from him.

"No Booth," she cried when he maintained the pressure, "it's too much, my clit's too sensitive right after I cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuohhhhhhh GOD!"

And yet he continued, driving each orgasm above and past the last. Each gained complexity, texture, each took her to a new place.

Except for the eighth; that one was only average. Nine, ten and eleven clearly left it in the dust.

He persisted until her voice cracked and she had no strength left to do anything but whimper, until her face was wet with tears.

Booth had done many things in his life, but he was hard-pressed at that moment to think of one that made him feel more like a man than making her come undone like this.

When she finally whimpered, "Booth... Booth fuck me. Fuck me. I want you inside me," he obeyed, drawing up her body and entering her immediately. And again, though she thought she had no more strength in her, another orgasm began its ascent.

"Come. Come for me," she breathed.

Her demands felt strange to her mouth as she was in such a position of weakness, unable to do anything to draw it from him but to catch what skin she could in her feeble kisses and to clench down on the rigid cock that was drawing her final orgasm from her. It rushed through her as she clung to him and felt his spasms deep inside of her. She tasted his voice calling her name.

Every muscle in her body ached from the exertion, and each felt utterly useless in the moment, so when he reached up and released her from the handcuffs, she left her arms there for a while. Slowly they came down and reached for him, wrapping him in her embrace.

She was trembling. He brought his lips to hers, and she kissed him so softly, so sweetly, he thought he might break. Tears were still spilling from her eyes.

She seemed to have no words. A rarity. He smiled cockily and one of her eyebrows twitched before tilting her chin up in his direction, wordlessly begging for another kiss. He met her once again, and then let his head fall to rest on her shoulder, laying one arm on her torso and tenderly cupping her breast.

Brennan rocked him against her as they drifted quickly back into a sound sleep. They barely moved til the morning arrived and when it did, they found themselves filled with an entirely new appreciation for the tools of law enforcement.

But Brennan's scientific nature suggested additional research before coming to any firm conclusions.

And Booth was only too happy to oblige.

* * *

_so anyone want some more kinky b&b? anything specific? click the button and leave me some love!_


	3. Don't Say a Word

_so... this is a little different than the last two chapters. i wrote this for a big crazy anonymous kink meme on LJ (the bitesize_bones comm). that place is good times, seriously. check it out.  
_

_it's been a while since i updated this, but i do have a plan for the next chapter. no promises on when it'll be done, but it IS in the works.  
_

* * *

In this winter chill, the night bears a heavy quiet. The hotel door clicks open, then shut. The rustle of sheets and a few mattress springs, and then nothing.

You both work silently. Hands slip beneath pyjamas, push aside barriers to skin. You skim across her soft surface, following her curves, dipping between her breasts, running the space beneath them, swirling around and then pinching her nipples.

She makes to gasp, but you quickly press your lips to hers. You mustn't say a word. You mustn't make a sound. Angela is in the next bed and neither of you are quite certain how soundly she's sleeping.

Her hands press against your firm chest, they graze your hard-earned definition. They find your skin alert. They brush lower.

And now _you_ must stifle yourself. None of the others know about your new bond and you've both agreed that it be kept... quiet. All the same you can't keep your hands off of each other, even when you can't find excuses for having your own hotel rooms. It would have been suspicious to fight the point too hard, you decided. A subtle game, a gentle touch, so as to keep it hidden.

Now your tongue draws gently along her jawline until it reaches that spot that's so responsive. You rest your mouth there. Mute breaths are only audible here, a beat away from the curve of her ear. Her lobe works its way between your lips and you suckle, smiling as you see her squirm.

You can feel the familiar goosebumps across her belly. There's an ebb and flow to them that moves with the pace of your tongue. Your hand shifts lower to match hers.

To keep from shocking her into a sharp breath, you touch her sex slowly. She'd say you were doing it to tease her, which might not be entirely wrong. If you'd meant to be the one in control, however, you've failed from the beginning, because the moment you slip a finger into her tight, slick folds you are lost. It's all you can do to keep that guttural moan hushed. She nips at your jaw in retribution.

_Be quiet._

She's stroking you with a touch that you'd never felt before her. In the brief span of your budding relationship, you've become quite addicted, and you to try to match your rhythm to hers, try to make her feel as out of control as you. Her free hand is fisting tightly in your hair; you can feel her grip pulse in time with your caress of her inner walls. Minutes pass and your shared movements become more intense, almost frantic. It's a fight to let your breath pass your vocal cords without bowing or plucking, but you both manage, burying your faces in each other's necks.

_Must be quiet. Mustn't be found out. And must hold out just a little bit longer._

But you can't hold out. You've just sprinted past the point of no return and you're desperate to have her along for the ride. You're lucky; your thumb circles her clit, your tongue laves inside the shell of her ear and she's right there with you. The beautiful woman has finally thrown herself into your kiss when you both experience that wave of pleasure rushing over you. In your mind, you're crying out, you're chanting her name. In this dark room, you're silent, but your lips can't help but form the words while you tremble.

You both lay still for a few moments, holding each other close, before you sense her starting to drift off. When you ghost the words in her ear, "Goodnight, Bones," the lazy smile she flashes sends your heart right back into overdrive.

The mattress springs creak, the sheets rustle, then the door clicks open and shut. Cool air kisses your skin as you return discreetly to your room to rest for the day to come.


End file.
